Remember when it rained
by the anomaly
Summary: Moony is offered help before the full moon, but will he accept it? Oneshot. Please read and review!


**Disclaimer:** If these characters belonged to me, I'd be a happy person (Just like how Leonard Woolf is happy if he could go for a walk at 10 in the morning.)

This is a one-shot fic. Sorry if the storyline coincides with anybody else's storyline. Please read and review!

**Remember when it rained**

It is a warm summer night. The almost-full moon hangs high in the dark sky, and not a single star shows its face against the thick blanket of clouds. Sirius knows that a before-full-moon Moony is a volatile Moony, with too many emotions packed into hunched shoulders and stiffened limbs. Yet, he pads silently toward his friend, who is lying face down on the bed.

"Hey, Remus." He calls softly.

"What is it?" Remus says, voice too hard and eyes too clear for sleep, as he turns over to face Sirius.

Sirius swallows hard, and replies, "I was thinking...if we could run with you tomorrow. Because...I...we...er..."

"There isn't a need to,"

"But, we..."

"I said, there isn't a need to. Go back to sleep," He turns away and closes his eyes.

"Moony, you don't understand. We want to help you. It isn't fair that you come back from the full moon so hurt and..."

Before he can complete his sentence, Remus has sprung from his bed and his hands are firmly planted on Sirius' shoulders. "What do you mean I don't understand? I know my own _condition_ best!" shouts Remus, much too loudly for a quiet night in the Gryffindor dormitory. For a moment, both boys face each other, unmoving.

As quickly as he had reacted, Remus' grip on Sirius suddenly loosens as he lets out a heavy breath and sinks back on the mattress. With a voice barely above a whisper, he says, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice."

"I just don't want you all to get hurt." and then, as an afterthought, "by me."

"It's all right. We can take care of ourselves," Sirius replies, too quickly.

"But what if..." His eyes fall to his knees.

"So it's settled then, we're running with you tomorrow night," Sirius gives an awkward cough, and backs away.

Remus continues to sit on his bed, and a lone owl's hoot is heard from the Forbidden Forest.

----------

A single breath of wind hisses through the creaking windows of the dormitory. Remus rises and goes to secure the latch, and his eyes wander to the Shrieking Shack. All is still. For now.

He closes his eyes, and lowers himself unto the floor, against the cold, hard wall. Cradling his pounding head in his hands, he wages a battle with sleep, but loses eventually. He doesn't want the demons in his dreams to continue haunting him with such familiar images of his childhood...

Red. Always red. And a faint hint of metal in the air. It didn't matter when it was he that lay in his own blood, covered in bruises and wounds. It didn't matter that with each full moon he thrashed around like a mad thing in that wretched cage, hidden in the garage where no light could reach. It didn't matter that even his own mother threw him suspicious glances during _that_ time of the month. He always saw his being a werewolf was a suffering that he bore alone. That was, until that fateful dawn, when he found the cage broken, and his dear sister's body beside him, limp and lifeless.

They had forgotten to lock the garage that night, and the growls and howls of the wolf and aroused her curiosity. She knew nothing of his lycanthropy, and his heart was overwhelmed with guilt as he stared at his own hands, stained with _her_ blood.

His mother had cried at the funeral, never-ending tears flowing down her cheeks as she mourned her only daughter. He couldn't bring himself to cry. In all the novels that he had read, murderers didn't mourn their victims' deaths.

As the wind blew across his face, he seemed to hear her voice, squealing as he carried her above his shoulders and swung her around. He recalled how she skipped around in the rain, singing her heart out and ignoring his warnings that she would fall ill later. He remembered how he always kissed her goodnight after a long string of bedtime stories.

Now, he only relives these moments in his dreams. It is the voice of a ghost that he hears, the arms of a ghost around his neck.

He has hated himself ever since.

----------

A hand on his shoulder startles him out of his dream. Remus raises his head, and their eyes meet.

"The _bed_ is for _sleeping_, you know," admonishes Sirius, whose eyes are foggy with sleep and tousled hair makes him looks slightly comical.

Remus slowly rises and climbs into bed. Sirius turns and heads back to his own.

"She didn't have to die,"

"What?"

"Nothing."

Walking toward Remus, he tries to sound comforting, but instead, feels foolish as the words tumble out of his mouth, "Hey, it's gonna be okay,"

"...yeah..."

The blankets rustle as Sirius gets back into bed. As his eyelids fall heavily, another person is having another sleepless night.

**The End**


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